So who isn't on strike in the Centre of the Universe?

Day two in the Centre of the Universe's garbage strike. We are no longer allowed to fill public garbage bags and incredible shrinking minds at city hall came up with this solution to stop Toronto residents from using the garbage cans. In addition, there is a $380 fine if you are now caught dumping garbage in a public can. Most of the garbage cans in my neighborhood have the plastic wrap ripped off and are now filled to capacity. C'est la vie!

I have yet to met a resident who would publicly acknowledge sympathy for the garbage men and tempers are running high. The Toronto Star reported earlier that a picketing garbage man has been run down on the picket line in front city hall. The moral of which should be - don't block access to a downtown resident's parking spot.

But that is the least of the city's labour problems because as of midnight tonight - LCBO workers are set to walk off the job which means most of us are doomed. For those of you who do not have the misfortune of living in Ontario; this means no liquor will be sold. And the bars – well, once their stock is consumed - we will all be condemned to drink beer. Lucky for me, I am diversification personified and my home is well stocked with Israeli wine, Russian vodka, Jamaican Rum, and Italian spumante.

There is a simple fix to both the garbage and LCBO labor issues. Privatized, and then, pull a Ronald Reagan - and fire them all.

There is nothing left for it but to nuke Toronto - the update

Forget the Israeli elections, war, climate change and the sinking of the global economy. I have bigger problems. For all you who think living in the eye of the Centre of the Universe is easy, rest assured, there is no party going on here.

Yesterday morning as I was attempted to apply eyeliner in front of the bathroom mirror when I was startled by the banging and clinging noises coming from underneath the bathtub. I went near the tub to investigate, but when the screeching noises started, I dropped my eyeliner and hopped out of the tub. Obviously there was some kind of a critter fight happening underneath my tub around the facet area. And from the sound and fury, it was no little critters having a go.

It was at this point, Rogue – my predator and head of internal rodent security raced into the bathroom and jumped into the tub to hunker down in front of the facets in the ‘ready to pounce and torture’ position. This is Rogue surveying the home front.

I realize this picture does not accurately reflect his true size which is mammoth for his species. And don’t be fooled by his expression of docility. I have watched him take hours to torture a cornered critter before he moves in for the kill. Trust me, even Saddam’s finest internal security agents could learn a thing or two from the Rogue.

So I did what all gun-less women do when faced with a similar situation. I grabbed my eyeliner out of the tub, picked up my make-up bag and booked it out of the bathroom. I shut the door on my way out leaving the Predator trapped in the room and went to work. I called the youngest and advised him to open the door but to use the washroom with caution.

The only time that I can tell that Rogue has left the bathtub in the last 24 hours was when I kicked him out of the tub this morning so I could take a quick shower. Although, he did insist on standing guard on the side of the tub. I duly made the pointless call to the landlord’s office, and the super hummed, hawed and muttered something about getting around to check on it as soon as his work load eased up a bit. I expect nothing much will come of it until something dramatic happens - like the building burns down because the wiring has shorted out due to chewing.

A friend asked just how big the sound was and that got me to worrying that my predator might be too small for the job because the racket was enormous. This got me to thinking maybe its not sewer rats but…raccoons. The downtown is invested with them. I can’t leave my house in the early morning or in the evening and not see raccoons – usually big, huge fat ones who can barely move because they are so bloated in size from the endless meals found to be found in the green bins which are set out everywhere. I actually find this idea more comforting. At least, if its raccoons, there is always the possibility I will get a new hat or maybe even a short jacket out of this situation.

And if its rats, well the only good rodent I know, is a dead mink. Sewer rats just don’t have any kind of a decent pelt to make a hat or coat out of. And before anyone goes all squishy-touchy-feelie on me, let me say this – Bambi does not live in my world. Now I need a game plan – any suggestions?

There’s nothing left for it but to nuke Toronto

The weather has finally turned cold. It’s probably -15C and with the wind chill it probably feels closer to -30C which really doesn’t bother me too much as I have the right clothes for it. But as I walked home from work tonight I saw something that sent a chill down my spine about three houses down from where I live. And if you know anything about 19th Toronto style townhouses, you would understand there is less than 75 feet distance from that house to mine.

I saw a rat, a big beast of one too, about a foot long and fat, gnawing away on one of those evil green plastic bins which the Environ-Nazis who run city hall make us use for food wastes. I got Rogue the Predator to deal with the freeloading mice who attempted to take over my home two years ago. Rogue made quick work of the mice and has been doing an outstanding job ever since. No one can ever accuse him of being a slacker but this spawn of Satan may be more than a match for him. And where you will see one out in the front yard, close to the traffic and people in the late afternoon; you can bet there’s more that look just like him.

Now if I was living in a truly civilized place, like say the last homey house on Pleasant Ridge Road in the lower Miramichi I could do what all decent civilized people do when a big ugly fucker of a rat comes into your yard. Send out the Last Amazon out with a shot-gun to blow that sucker to kingdom come.

Of course, I don't live in a decent civilized place populated by sane normal people. Instead, I live in downtown Toronto where they won’t even let you use pesticides to kill weeds on your lawn. Let alone take a shot-gun to a rat. I can hear what some of the sane among you are already thinking - taking a shot-gun to rat is overkill, but I am a huge fan of disproportionate force.

This city so sucks.